


The Last Dragon

by Carribou5150



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arthur Dayne Lives, Greenseers & Greensight (A Song of Ice and Fire), Howland Reed - Freeform, Jon Snow is Not Called Aegon, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon Snow's Name is Jaehaerys, King Jon Snow, Lys, Magic, R'hllor - Freeform, Red god, Resurrection, Rhaegar is a Dragon, Secret Caves, The Last Dragon, Warg Jon Snow, and he hates mud, like a literal dragon, relationships tbd - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:27:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28802076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carribou5150/pseuds/Carribou5150
Summary: In which the Last Dragon gets a second chance, as exactly that...a dragon. Reincarnated on the day of his death, Rhaegar Targaryen wakes to find himself within the body of a newly hatched dragon. After making a daring escape from a temple of R'hllor in Lys, he makes his way north, to find his only living child. His second son, Jon Snow. Jaehaerys Targaryen.
Relationships: Arthur Dayne & Jon Snow, Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Jon Snow & Ned Stark, Jon Snow & Rhaegar Targaryen, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen
Comments: 6
Kudos: 70





	The Last Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I am so excited to be posting my story here on AO3, it is also a bit of an experiment between my other accounts on different platforms to see which gathers better responses and is easier to communicate with you all on. I will say this, I would love to hear you guys' opinions and I am open to constructive criticism, just don't hated slander, its rude.

Running blindly; tears blurring his vision and a small torch in his hand, he can still hear her words. “Ned I’ve had enough of this! I will no longer put up with that boy being raised alongside my son! The rightful heir to Winterfell, your own true born son. The bastard has no place being raised next to Robb as if he is trueborn! You should have sent him away as soon as you found out he existed, or better yet never taken him in at all!!” Her voice full of anger and hate, he had never heard her say such harsh words till this morning. He knew that the Lady Catelyn disliked him due to his manner of birth; which he had recently found out about on his last name day, but he had never thought that she would wish him gone. After all he made sure never to bother her or to step out of line, he did not know what he did to garner such hatred from the only mother figure he had ever known.  
So deep in his thoughts he doesn’t see the chunk of stone blocking his path, he trips, causing the torch to fly from his hand and fall into one of the many pools of heated water that lay within the chambers under Winterfell. Now shrouded in darkness, he collapses weeping at his new thoughts of helplessness. He does not know where he is, how to get out and knows no one will be able to find him down here, as the passage he traveled through was only known to him, having discovered it last year during a game of hide and go seek with his siblings. 

His sobbing gets louder with the realization that he will most likely die down here, lost and alone, at the tender age of six name days. He is lost in his emotions for what seems like an eternity when he hears movement to his right. His small form still wracked with sorrow, begins to curl up in fear. “Who is there?” “Father?” He asks hopefully. He hears the movement again, a dragging sound followed by large thumps and what seems to be the clicking of steel on rock, like when his father taps the wet stone against his dagger after sharpening it. Jon’s fear deepens at the sound, shakily asking again “Who’s there?” In the darkness he can barely make out a figure, a large one at that, shifting from side to side, but that is all he can see. Even then he is not sure if it’s real, or if it’s his mind playing tricks on him. 

Suddenly he hears the sound of something entering the pool of spring water next to him. He knows it’s real now. Leaping to his feet, Jon stumbles backwards till he hits a wall, the stone warmed from the steam and water flowing through the pipes beneath. His breathing is erratic, heart pounding in his chest, and for a while that is the only sound he hears. It’s so loud, ringing in his head like the bells the cooks use to signal when meals are ready, only it’s amplified a thousand times. ‘What if it’s a ghost, or one of the creatures Old Nan talked about in her stories? What if it’s a giant and it’s going to eat me, or or or...’ his mind races from thought to thought, barely leaving time for one idea to stick before the next is introduced. His mind goes blank when he hears a sort of breathing, large breaths going in and out at a steady pace. 

Something alive was definitely down here with him. 

The clicking and thumps move towards him, he hears the disturbance in the water again as well. He stops breathing for a moment when something touches his foot. It feels sharp, like a like a ... claw?!? It lightly scratches at his boot, almost like it’s trying to provide comfort; like when his father would rub his back when he was overwhelmed or ill. Now Jon is terrified and confused. Warm breath hits the top of his head and neck, he freezes again. Shaking like a leaf, he looks up. A hulking shadow hovers above him and just as he is about to scream he hears a voice, soft and soothing in its tone “Fear not sweetling, I won’t hurt you. You have nothing to fear from me.” The voice is deep and masculine, but sweet and almost musical in tone. It puts him slightly at ease, but he is still guarded. “Who are you? What are you?” Jon asks after a moment, his little voice shaking still. A deep rumble fills the room, almost like a laugh. 

“Your questions will be answered another time, but for now you need to get back to your family. They are looking for you.” 

Shocked, Jon slowly pulls himself away from the wall. “How long have I been down here? How do I know I can trust you, I don’t even know you?”

“It’s like I said byka zaldrīzes, all of your questions will be answered in time. As for trust, I ask you to place your trust in a stranger, for it is your best hope of leaving this place.” Seeing reason in the words spoken to him, Jon agrees nodding to himself. “Alright.” He says meekly, a small amount of fear still coloring his tone. 

“Good, now, let’s return you to where you belong. I’ll guide you out the way you came in. Just follow the directions I speak and you will be out in no time.”  
He stands up to face the direction he had come from, pulling away from the wall. It takes a while for Jon to answer, but after a moment he finds some courage and speaks.

“Alright, I trust you.” Another deep rumble fills the room, this time a dim light accompanies it, allowing the small boy to see the floor in front of him, ‘What... is that? Where did...’ As if the voice could read his thoughts it responds “Do not turn around for the light is simply there to help you, have no fear byka zaldrīzes. Walk forward then turn right as you come upon the first set of stone arches, then continue until you see an old wooden door.” Nodding, Jon does as the voice asks, though now unable to pinpoint its location in the dark, the gentle yellow light still behind him. After he turns right around the corner he hears movement following him. 

“Is that you?” He asks worriedly.

“Yes.” 

Reassured, Jon continues his slow walk, searching for the door. He looks around him, familiarizing himself with the walls around him, incase he ever gets lost down here again. Finally, just a few paces ahead of him the door comes into view. He knows vaguely where he is now, having travelled up and down the stairs at the end of the room behind the door for a good year now. 

“It is from here you must go on alone sweetling. But should you venture down this way again, I will be here.” The voice sounds almost melancholy as it says this. “Why can’t you come with me, surly being down here isn’t any fun. You’re all alone.” Jon says, still facing the door, trying to muster up the courage to turn around. “Fear not for me, for I am not alone. The ghosts of the past keep me company down here.” The voice responds ominously. “Are you a ghost?” A light snort comes from behind him, the warmer air flowing through Jon’s long hair. “No.” 

“Oh.” 

“Then why can’t you come with me?”

“I assure you little one, I can reach the world outside of this cellar but just not through the same means as you. Now hurry, you’ll miss your dinner if you stay any longer.” Jon feels a light nudge on his back, pushing him the last few paces to the door. What ever touched him was warm, no it was hot, burning almost, but at the same time calming, like the heat that escapes the hearth in the Great Hall on the coldest days. 

Finally Jon opens the door, but not before turning his head slightly to see the source of the light as it disappears down the long hall, back in the direction from which it came. He only catches a glimpse before it fades, and gasps at what he sees. A long figure dragging around the corner, low to the ground, frills and spikes running along it’s back... ‘What are you?’


End file.
